All I Have Left
by tkelparis
Summary: Ten's thoughts, with flashbacks, in the aftermath of Journey's End. But he's not alone. Sort of part of the There's The Door series. (Have tissues at hand, please.)


**Title**: All I Have Left

**Rating**: T (angst, yelling, JE aftermath)

**Author**: tkel_paris

**Summary**: Ten's thoughts, with flashbacks, in the aftermath of Journey's End. But he's not alone. Sort of part of the There's The Door series.

**Disclaimer**: At minimum, this would've been the end of JE had I any say in Who. :(

**Dedication**: tardis-mole. I asked for prompts for my Story-a-Day challenge, and this was one of them.

**Author's Note**: To get myself in to mood to write this, I played Kelly Clarkson's "Cry" over and over on the way to my writer's group. Promptly wrote a very happy story to counteract that mood. This story will likely have a sequel. I just can't figure out what at the moment. So it's being posted now.

**All I Have Left**

**Started May 2, 2012**

**Finished March 22, 2013**

The Doctor stood in the Control Room, soaking wet from the monsoon that was pounding England. It was over. He'd done the worst thing he'd ever done. It might top the Time Lock, because if he'd been really careful he might've avoided this.

A lot of his carefully held assumptions were shattered today. The biggest was regarding Rose Tyler. And she still didn't understand what she had done...

"_I'm not going back!" Rose's whine was extreme, even in yelling._

_The Doctor glared at her. Oh, he'd forgotten how much of a brat humans on the cusp of their twenties from certain places in the 21st Century could be. "How old are you, Rose? You should be at least 30 by now. Have you even grown up a bit?"_

_The three bystanders for this moment were watching carefully. Of course they would. People couldn't help watching a train wreck. It wasn't limited to humans._

_Rose blinked. "What does that have to do with anything? You need me!"_

"_No, I don't," he snapped, patience worn out. He had to leave here fast, to have any chance of his future being intact. "You signed a pact with the Devil when you got Torchwood's help. I remember looking them up when we were here last. They're worse than the one from my universe. This planet might be in the 21st Century, but its morals are from much earlier."_

"_Doctor," Rose started, but was cut off._

"_They wanted you to capture me, bring me back, didn't they?"_

"_Well, I told them that wasn't happening. And when you take me back, it won't."_

"_You're not coming back, Rose. You caused this. Not even the Rift at Medusa could account for Caan getting in. The walls between the universes are weakening. I now have to spend time fixing them, strengthening them. If you hadn't worked on that cannon, Creation would **never** have been in danger."_

_Rose shook her head. "How could one cannon do all that?"_

"_It wasn't just the cannon, Rose. As the Bad Wolf, the persona you created to handle the Heart of the TARDIS having ripped it from her without permission, you did untold damage to the universe. In fact, I think you scared Caan into flying into the place that allowed him to free Davros. One way or another, this is your fault. Consider yourself exiled." If you live, he thought grimly._

"_No!" She stormed up to him, but he sharply pushed her away. Since he was so much stronger, it sent her flying briefly, and she landed on her tailbone. The crack was audible, and she cried out in shock._

"_You betrayed me, Rose. You betrayed Creation. That doesn't get any more second chances. Goodbye." And he rushed inside the TARDIS._

He sighed miserably. Rose might've condemned herself to being executed by playing to their Torchwood's rules. Which she'd signed on to when she begged their help in getting back to him.

Poor Jackie, he sighed as he peeled off his jacket. He hoped she didn't pay any price. Or her other children. Pete had done a lot, but it wasn't enough. His world was turning into a xenophobic police state.

His eyes watered again. Because thinking of parents and how their actions influenced their own children was a painful reminder of where he'd just been.

_It was the worst moment of his last 900 years. Another loss at his own hands. He couldn't think of anything else. He had no time._

_Worst irony of all. A Time Lord who was out of time. Proof the universe hated him._

_Sylvia and Wilf's hearts were broken. Their precious Donna was back to being unaware, and could never know what good she'd done. She was at so much risk. So many people could trigger the memories to return. How many people would have to be warned or kept away from her?_

_The implications were staggering. He might have delayed her death at the hands of the Meta-Crisis energy. Nothing more._

_It hit harder as he watched Donna talking to some random so-called friend on the phone. "How thick d'you think I am?" Donna demanded of whoever she was talking to on her mobile. "Planets! I'll tell you what that was, dumbo. It's those two-for-one lagers you get down the offy, cos you fancy that little man with the goatee! Haha! Yes, you do. I've seen you!"_

_It took all the willpower he had to maintain anything like a calm manner, especially because of the trembling person by his side who could barely stand to look, too. "Donna?" He had to say one last thing, see her look his way one more time._

_She did, with no recognition._

_It hurt. More than anything. "We were just going."_

_She shrugged without shrugging. "Yeah, see ya."_

_He walked away, leading his sole remaining companion, as she continued on about someone and only lying about calories. He couldn't bear it any longer._

He heard a rustling behind him, and he turned to face the other occupant of the TARDIS. Determined to face whatever he had to help the one other person who was more than a companion.

There his poor Duplicate, his and Donna's instant son, numbly fell into the Jump Seat. His face was stained with tears, clear even with the rain. The poor boy in a man's body had lost his mother.

And felt it was his own fault, just for being born.

The Doctor dragged his feet over, and wrapped his arms around his son. He knew exactly how he felt.

The boy broke down, finally able to. He'd wanted to in front of his grandmother and great-grandfather, but there would've been no way of explaining it away to Donna. Not even a mind-wipe could have kept her from needing to comfort someone so upset. Which only would've made his son more upset.

Their son. Josiah Andrew Smith-Noble. It was the last thing Donna did before he locked away her memories – name their boy.

He was filled with regrets, and he'd lost Donna. But he wasn't alone.

"Mum," Josiah wailed, sinking into a deeper sobbing fit.

The Doctor remembered Wilf's last words, after saying he'd watch the stars:

"_Please, don't give up! Maybe you can find something that'll heal her!" he cried, trying to not be overhead. "And please don't be a complete stranger. Sylvie and me, we want to see our boy again."_

There was no way he could deny his son's family that. And he would have to try.

For Josiah's sake.

For Wilf's.

For Sylvia's.

For his own.

For Donna.

**THE END**


End file.
